Friday, September 16, 2005

Analyst abuse.

Only we're not analysts anymore. But we're the lowest-ranking people in the company, Marie and Peggy and New Coworker and me. I haven't heard anything bad of NC fact, I haven't heard anything of her at all, but that's probably because nobody would tell me such things.

Marie has taken over the workshop that I organized the past two years, and these days is, I think, feeling a bit comforted by an officemate who knows exactly what she's going through. There but for the grace of Huxley's rabid lack of interest in the workshop go I. The workshop is next week. Yesterday Allen, spying Marie in the hall, remarked to someone with him, "Marie doesn't look all that frazzled yet. Do you think she's got it under control, or that she's just stupid?"

Today in a meeting Huxley described each person's role in the project the meeting was for. "Peggy is the wild card," he said last. "I don't know what she brings to the project."

"She'll keep us smiling," suggested CS. "When things get ugly we'll turn to her."

"Except she may introduce more trouble than she's worth," Huxley said, laughing. Incidentally, I now see exactly why Middle Easterners are offended by being shown the sole of someone's shoe. Mud-encrusted shoes do not belong on the table and, like excessive chest and back hair, are not things I or anyone should be exposed to in a business setting.

I've been mildly annoyed and hermitlike at work today. Actually, that's my normal state at work now. Seven weeks. I'll fix whatever my buyer wants me to.

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